


Stay with me

by Aracney



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Adrenaline, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Paranormal, Angst, Dragged away, Ghost Doyoung, Isolation, M/M, Paranormal, Poltergeists, Shaky Hands, Tear-stained, Unconscious, Whumptober 2019, attacked by books, author taeil, cursing, it's not a haunting without stuff flying around, no.1 - Freeform, no.10, no.13, no.14, no.17, no.6, no.7, so many plants, stay with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 16:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20877446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aracney/pseuds/Aracney
Summary: Moving to a new house far away from the bustling city of Seoul seemed like a great idea at the time. Taeil needed a break. Something fresh. But what was supposed to be a nice little house in the countryside turns out to be the turning point in his uneventful life. A new chapter starts for the author, something he wouldn't have anticipated outside of books.Apparently a quiet house isn't always an empty house.





	Stay with me

**Author's Note:**

> The first entry for whumptober! Quite long and mixed with more than one prompt, but I like it. This is a universe that won't end with just Doyoung, the rest of the gang will arrive later.

Moving to a new house far away from the bustling city of Seoul seemed like a great idea at the time. Having lived his whole life in the same place, not even moving that far away once he moved out of his parents' house, Taeil needed a break. Something new. He was stuck, physically and emotionally. 

His books lacked 'soul' as his editor so lovingly told him after his latest draft had been sent in for review. He was stuck in the same habits, no new perspective, no real enthusiasm behind the words. Never mind a lacklustre plot, the characters seemed devoid of emotions. Taeil had to agree with her. It was garbage, pure and simple. 

So there he stood, a box with his sparse plants in his arms, chewing his bottom lip as the real estate agent unlocked his front door. He knew he needed this, but it didn't keep him from being worried. Scared. It all seemed so new. His first time moving out of the city. He sighed deeply to shake the worst tremors from his body. 

The keys were unceremoniously dumped into the box as the agent hurried off, shooting both Taeil and the house a wide-eyed look as she left. Taeil would have noticed the stare if he hadn't been so nervous about opening the door, staring holes into the old wood. 

"You can do this," he said to pump himself up and reached for the door. The old habit of talking out loud never left him, only growing as he spent hours alone, writing his latest draft long into the night. Silence never sat well with him in a city that never slept. 

White walls with wooden floor and ceiling greeted him, the entrance bare of furniture. The living room had a small fireplace but otherwise stood empty as well. Only the kitchen was furnished, cabinets, a stove and an old fridge filling the space. Taeil hummed. It would take time to move everything inside. Luckily the moving company would arrive the next day with his belongings and two people that would help with the heavy lifting. 

He placed the box in the kitchen, popped his back and went to grab the bag and mattress he had stashed in his car. With some trouble, Taeil managed to pull the mattress into the living room but gave up on moving it all the way to his bedroom. It was for one night anyway, so it didn’t matter much which room he slept in. 

The bag was emptied out on the floor. Taeil grabbed his toiletries and put them away in the bathroom. The white walls needed a proper cleaning, but otherwise, it seemed nice enough. The small watering can he bought years ago was filled with water as he placed the small plants on the counter in the kitchen. He shuffled around the small house, planning the layout in his head, already feeling his nervous energy transform into giddiness for the new chapter he would begin in the town. It felt right. He felt _good_.

Taeil ended up on the floor in the living room, a sandwich and bottle of water beside him, as he leaned against the wall. In his lap sat his laptop, already opened to play one of his favourite dramas as he ate. The heat seeped through his pants as time passed. The well-known feeling of a habit calmed him down as he glanced at the still-new surroundings he sat in. The house seemed to creak every once in a while, but compared to the noisy apartment complex he had lived in before, Taeil barely noticed it. It still seemed too quiet in his mind. He turned the volume up. 

Nodding off to the fifth episode, he checked the time to see 00:56 pm stare back up at him. His neck felt stiff, both from the uncomfortable position he had been in for hours now, but also the long drive from Seoul to the coastal town. He had been cramped in his car for too long. 

Closing the laptop, Taeil stood and headed for the bathroom. He swayed on his feet as he brushed his teeth, feeling the exhaustion blur his vision. Rubbing his eyes, he rinsed his mouth and almost yelled as he looked up in the mirror. A slight movement, barely long enough to register in his tired brain, had passed by the doorway as he faced the mirror again. He blinked, feeling his heart beat heavily in his chest. Then, shaking his head, he laughed and wiped his mouth with a small towel. Imagining a shadow in an empty house wasn’t nearly as bad as walking down an alley in the dead of night, overthinking and feeling eyes staring at you from the darkness. He’d thought worse on late-night runs in Seoul than whatever his imagination could conjure in a small house. 

Taeil turned off the light and headed back to the living room. His phone laid beside his pillow. He bit his lip. The old house gave a slight creak. Feeling eyes on him, he turned back towards the kitchen. And no one stood there, just as he expected. 

“Get used to the silence, it’s not going away,” he muttered and crawled under the cover. Still, he grabbed his phone and found a random video on youtube to play while he fell asleep, the soothing voice of another human lulling him to sleep. He would have to get used to the silence. This was good for him, even if it took some time to register. 

Moving in was a lot harder than moving out. Physically at least. Taeil remembered how long it took to actually fill the boxes with his life. Not because he owned a lot of knickknack, but because it felt so strange. To just pack his life together and leave. Everything he was, everything he had ever done was in Seoul. His friends, his family, his life. His memories. The picture frame in his hands shook slightly, Taeil needing a deep breath before he placed it on the shelf above the fireplace. His parents and younger self smiled back at him. 

“Where do you want it?” A gruff voice pulled him out of his thoughts. The movers stood with his dining table, arms as still as their faces. Taeil envied their strength. 

“Ah, yes, um, over there, the small room between the living room and kitchen.” He pointed through the arch in the living room. The man hummed in response and directed his partner out of the room. Taeil returned to the box by his feet, adding the two other pictures he wanted on the shelf. One of his friends in a group picture, the other of his parents from only a year ago. Smiling, he moved to the bookcase. He would need to call his parents soon. Tell them he had settled in alright. 

Even with two extra pairs of arms to do the heavy lifting, it took all day to move Taeil’s sparse furniture into his new home. The living room and bedroom took the longest, but they finished right before dinner. Taeil still felt flustered from asking them to move the bed thrice before the inner picture in his head felt aligned with the real room. He said goodbye with a nice tip for their trouble, locking the door as they drove away. 

Grabbing a bottle of water and heating a pizza, Taeil ended up in his newly furnished living room. The TV was already on and paused on an old movie. He draped a quilt over his lap and pressed play. Letting himself be absorbed by the action on the screen, Taeil sighed, feeling accomplished after a long day. A long few days really. 

“I can’t believe I’m here.” He looked around. His plants stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, newly watered and thriving by the sunlight, compared to the small space in the kitchen. Even with the horrible clash his leather couch made with the more rustic feel to the house, the new surroundings seemed just what he had imagined when he pictured a fresh start. It still felt weird, so unfamiliar and new, but he knew he would settle in. The answering creak from the house only seemed fitting, Taeil cracking a smile at the coincidence. 

As the credits rolled a few hours later, Taeil stood to clean up. He managed two steps towards the kitchen before tripping over something. Barely catching himself and avoiding biting his tongue, Taeil rolled to the side, looking down at his feet. Dark soil and green leaves spilt on the polished floor. He furrowed his brows. He knew that plant - Mullein; a yellow flower for anxiety, depicted in his book about natural herbs - which he thought stood in the kitchen window where he wanted the few herbs he kept. _Not_ beside his couch. Picking himself up from the floor, Taeil tried to salvage as much soil as possible for the plant until he could replant it in a new pot. 

“How in the world did you end up here?” As if the plant looked on in amusement at him sounding like he expected an answer, it tilted to the side in the loose dirt. Taeil huffed a laugh and placed the small pot beside the other plants before cleaning the remaining mess from the floor. He would need to wash it properly tomorrow. And buy more soil. And maybe a new pot with a wider base. 

He deposited the dirty rag in a bucket in the bathroom and cleaned his hands. Had he forgotten the small plant? It made sense, with the size, he could easily have overlooked it with his moving jitters, pushing it to the side as larger objects were moved around the home. 

Turning on the faucet, Taeil brushed his teeth, humming to ignore the silence ringing out in the home after the loud movie. 

He bent down to rinse his mouth, feeling a sense of Deja Vu from yesterday. Knowing his thoughts wouldn’t settle until he confirmed nothing was staring at him, he wiped his mouth and glanced behind him. A small movement, just in his peripheral made him sigh. He had to stop imagining scenes in his head right before bed. His readers might enjoy a good ‘what-if’ with his character, but it got old fast when you couldn’t help but image _yourself_ seeing shadows move. That or too much time in the city with real people hiding in the shadows had left their mark on his mind. 

Taeil sighed and entered his bedroom. Peeking out the window before pulling the blinds down, Taeil noticed the complete lack of people and sounds. Even light, something he loathed in the city and had to get heavy curtains to block out, was missing out here, instead, darkness surrounded his small house. Only a slight glow by the trees further down the road assured him he wasn’t completely alone in the world. It still felt like isolation. Maybe he moved too far away. But it was too late now. He moved. He couldn’t just give up now. He _wouldn’t_ let himself give up so soon. He got used to the noise of the city. He could get used to the deafening silence of the countryside. 

Still, Taeil grabbed his phone and replayed the video from yesterday. Something about proper care for desert plants. One of the only plant species he hadn’t written a book about. He fell asleep with the promise to get a device that could play different sounds from nature or something. This was getting ridiculous. 

Days passed and suddenly, Taeil had spent his first week in his new house. He’d called his parents after settling in, assuring them he was doing well; eating properly and enjoying the fresh air. To which he’d promptly taken a long walk into town to quell his guilt of not actually having left the house yet. 

The small town seemed so full of life, yet so different from the city. People didn’t hurry along stuffed streets, no cars honked every minute. Taeil noticed only a few people actually drove around, most preferring to walk to their destination. He noted where the supermarket was, already writing a grocery list in his head. A small shop sold flowers, all locally grown of course, and all the materials needed to plant your own. Another list was soon added, this time for plants to the empty lot of grass surrounding his home. 

That day, after having explored the new surroundings to his heart's content, Taeil slept soundly for the first time, no video needed to distract him from the silence. 

Taeil had never felt lonely living alone. It was comforting, having your own space and not needing to compromise on anything. It also left you with all the responsibility, something he never complained about, but embraced with a smile. 

Until he awoke from a nap after finally having replanted the small Mullein in a better pot and placed it back in the kitchen where it belonged. He looked around in confusion, knowing something had startled him awake but already forgetting what it was. 

Shrugging, he stood up, planning on finally deciding on the species of bushes he would plant outside. It just seemed so sad and barren every time he looked out a window. That needed to change, and fast, he had decided. 

He walked to the bookcase, pulling out a few books, one written by himself, and two others by colleagues he hadn’t spoken to in years. The guilt was short-lived, but still there. He should send them a mail, ask how they were doing. Maybe talk to his editor about a possible collaboration in the future. 

He narrowed his eyes and looked down near the bottom of the shelf. A heavy book, a dictionary from what he could see on the spine, laid down beside the other books. He never laid a book down on a shelf, they all stood in neat rows, sorted by genre or some other criteria he saw fitting. 

“So you’re the one who woke me up.” He bent down and placed it beside the other dictionaries, pushing them in to leave room. The fake geode he kept as a bookend had been moved by the force of the falling book. He moved that back as well, straightening up and smiling at the symmetry. Back in order. 

With that done and accounted for, he went back to the couch, opening one of the books - _Flora and fauna for beginners_, not his own book but good for finding stronger plants that could handle unintentional neglect - and rifling through the pages to find a suitable pick. He wanted something with flowers. Lots of colours. Glancing at the flowers by the glass door, he decided on something light pink to match the soft plants already in his house. He leaned back and heard the leather creak under him. He made a face at the squeak. The living room would need a new couch to match the surroundings. 

A crack of settling wood almost startled him. He knew he would have to get used to it, but it still seemed so loud in the silence. At times it seemed comforting, like the house itself tried to talk to him, however pretentiously poetic it sounded in his mind, other times it surprised him, in the rare moments he actually enjoyed the silence. Then it felt more like the crack of a whip, sudden and jarring. 

Shaking the surprise from his mind, Taeil buried himself in the books, enjoying the comfort he felt from the heavy weight in his lap. The house creaked again. He bit his lip and grabbed his phone to play some music. 

A good two weeks into his new home, Taeil finally decided on the plants for his backyard; butterfly bushes. An easy and obvious pick for a house surrounded by woods. It would only attract more wildlife and feed the local insects. He felt good about the decision. 

After a hearty breakfast and watering of his plants, Taeil locked up the house and headed into town. Seeing as his own house and the neighbours’ all laid on the same road, he passed a few houses, waving back when someone greeted him from their own gardens. Everyone seemed so friendly, a smile always in people’s eyes as they went about their business. Taeil hummed a small tune as he walked. 

While his house wasn’t far away from the centre of the small town, it still took a good 20 minutes to walk there. Taeil had thought about getting a bike, but the calm pace from walking always managed to persuade him not to. 

He headed for the only flower shop, choosing two blooming bushes with soft pink buds and paid for delivery, seeing as he couldn’t just carry them home in his arms. The older man promised to be by the next day, to which Taeil thanked him as he left. 

With so little time having passed inside the shop, Taeil didn’t feel like going back home just yet. Even though he felt more comfortable each day in the silence, he still missed the feeling of being surrounded by people, hearing their lives pass by and see them interact. A pastime he enjoyed while writing novels in the city. Now, it seemed more private somehow. With a small population, he didn’t want to intrude, but simply settled on walking around, enjoying the sunny weather. 

Until he came upon a small bookshop. A rather small facade, a crooked door and dirty windows, Taeil almost felt saddened by the obvious disrepair the shop had suffered from what seemed like many years. Still, books line the shelves, old and new, abstract covers and old designs that looked soft to the touch. 

Taeil bit his lip. He could go inside, look around, maybe find an old book about herbs or flowers. 

As if the universe knew he needed more conviction, a man passed by the window Taeil was staring through. Even from just a short glimpse, Taeil almost gasped out loud. A soft face, eyes sharp, silvery hair moving slightly as he walked deeper into the bookstore. 

As if by a magnet, Taeil entered the shop, glancing around in hope he might see the man again. The smell of something sweet hit his nose first, then old dust and leather hidden beneath. The air seemed heavy, quiet, like someone waiting with bated breath. He could almost feel the anticipation, but from who or what, he didn’t know. His skin itched. Something didn’t feel right, like Taeil wasn’t supposed to be in there. Shaking his head, he huffed and slapped his own cheeks gently to avoid making any loud noises. He was being silly. 

“Looking for something?” Taeil almost screamed as the voice appeared behind him. Clutching his heart, he spun around to face whoever spoke. An elderly woman stood before him, barely reaching his shoulders in height - and he wasn’t the tallest man himself - staring at him with a heavy gaze, as if she knew something he didn’t. 

“Um, hello?” He felt as awkward as he sounded. She only huffed an amused breath, walking around him and in between the bookshelves. Seeing that as an unspoken ‘go-ahead’, Taeil wandered around aimlessly, some small flicker of hope remaining that he might see the man again. It still felt weird, like his own memories, fresh as they were, somehow betrayed his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness that hung in the air, in the very shop itself. 

A movement in his peripheral made Taeil turn, seeing the silver hair disappear behind the bookshelf he looked at. He hurried over, the sudden desperation to know he didn’t imagine the man winning over any fear he might have about looking weird in front of him. Even the back of his silvery head was enough to assure Taeil he wasn’t imagining him, seeing him disappear into a door behind the register. An employer then? Or some family of the owner. 

Speaking of, a small cough brought his attention away from the door. Taeil flushed in embarrassment as the woman stared at him with a knowing look. She shook her head and held out a frayed book. He blinked in confusion, scrambling to hold it as she simply thrust it into his hands, patting him on the arm as she went over to the register. Taeil stared at the cover. Red leather with tiny flowers sewn into the material. It was definitely handcrafted and very old from what he could tell. Even holding it felt like it might break apart any second if he breathed too hard on it. No title was written on the front, nor any text in the back. Carefully cracking open the hardcover, Taeil read the header inside. _Gyeon_. He furrowed his brows. 

“The town? Who wrote a book about the town? There’s no author.”

The woman just opened the old registry, grinding her teeth at the screeching sound it emitted and looked at him with a raised brow. “You don’t want it?”

Taeil did a double-take. “I mean- It’s not that- I just don’t understand-” He almost shook the book, but refrained for fear of actually tearing it apart. He settled on a simple “Why?”

Instead of answering, she placed another book on the counter, this one newer and spelling out ‘_Local fauna near lakes_’. Taeil could only stare in resigned confusion, even with the second book piquing his interest. 

She sighed, long and suffering. “You need more sun, sitting inside all day like you do. Go visit the forest, read the book. Both of them, get to know the area. If you don’t like the books, come return them. This place is as much a library as a bookstore at this point.” At the last comment, she huffed a laugh, staring behind her at the closed door. Taeil refrained from commenting on the scarily precise observation about his habits of sitting inside most of the day. Was it that obvious? 

He looked down at the two books. The one about plants certainly sounded interesting, and the other, well. Knowing more about the town's history might be fun. If nothing else, he could pretend he had read it and give it back after a week. He just had to skim a few chapters at most. She seemed to mean well, even if her tone was rather gruff. 

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll pay you back if I decide to keep them.”

She smiled at him, heavy wrinkles appearing around her eyes. “You do that. Now scram, I have customers.”

Looking around, Taeil smiled and picked up the books. The store was as empty as when he arrived, but he wasn’t about to correct her. He left with a small bow, both books tucked under one arm all the way home. 

Taeil woke up one morning to the realisation he hadn’t written a single word in any of his drafts since he moved in. He had been so busy moving in, planting bushes and redecorating that only a few scrawled notes on a piece of paper were all the work he had done in nearly a month. On the other hand, his home finally felt complete. New bushes in full bloom filled up the green space around his home. His kitchen no longer looked like a battlefield. The creaky leather couch had finally been replaced by soft beige fabric and a few decorative pillows. His nightmares had settled and left him with the dreamless nights he was used to. Even with the creaks from the old house still scaring him from time to time, everything just seemed to finally be right. Taeil felt content. Happy. 

Until the usual e-mail from his editor for updates threw him right back down into the pit of stress he knew from looming deadlines. Furiously writing a long apology and promise to send in at least two drafts by the end of the week, Taeil settled in for his fate of late-night writing. Armed with the biggest cup of coffee he owned, Taeil spent the day on the couch, writing until his fingers hurt. 

Only in the late evening, when his phone vibrated with the emergency alert he had learned to use when deadlines arrived, Taeil paused and noticed how late it was. Eating dinner at 9 wasn’t bad, but he knew in the long run it wasn’t healthy either. Especially since he forgot lunch. His stomach grumbled loudly at the reminder. 

Sighing and stretching, Taeil placed his laptop on the small coffee table and headed for the kitchen. Not caring what he ate as long as it was food, he simply grabbed a random container from the fridge and placed it in the microwave. His eyes burned from looking at a screen for so long, still seeing lines of text when he blinked. The plot and dialogue swirled in his head. It felt as if his characters were arguing over something he hadn’t even planned yet. Taeil rubbed his eyes as the timer went off. Picking the steaming bowl up, he went back to the living room, landing heavily on the couch and turning on the TV to distract his wandering thoughts. 

He barely registered the food, too occupied solving the latest plot hole he’d written himself into. It was so frustrating. He just never seemed able to simply write what he planned. Something new always came up, almost on its own accord, and forced itself into the plot. It seemed ridiculous, _he_ was the author! Yet it happened, and he never noticed until it was too late and removing it seemed like tearing a limp off. He chewed harder in frustration. 

As he finished his dinner, Taeil looked at his computer and felt like screaming. He couldn’t write, not now, the thought alone seemed painful. He closed down the program, after checking everything was saved, and put on a movie as background noise. Puttering around the living room, he watered the few plants he’d forgotten in his writing spree and cleaned the small kitchen as an afterthought. 

He couldn’t help but smile. It finally seemed so real, the move, his new house. It was really his. Even the quiet seemed to settle him after a rough day. Like now. Feeling the tranquillity surround him, the frustration slowly seeped out of him, leaving him sprawled out on the couch with the two new books in his lap. He had already finished the book about plants, but kept coming back to plan for a future walk in the surrounding woods. He knew a few lakes and connecting rivers filled the huge piece of land, he only had to find them. His trusted travel notebook brimmed with notes and sketches of the plants he wanted to find. Maybe he could plant a few in his garden if they could survive away from large bodies of water. That needed more research. 

Grabbing the other, older book, Taeil cracked open the hardcover and read the front page again. _Gyeon_ it said, clearly handwritten. No author, no description. He shrugged and skimmed the first few pages. Names, dates and small paragraphs of text filled each page. A page with a drawn tree caught his attention. Small names along branches and inside leaves made him pause. It was a family tree, and judging by the date, quite an old one. 

He moved on. More text, clearly names, dates of birth and death, and most of the time, a description of the person's accomplishments or tragic death. A few names from long-dead authors or other celebrities caught his attention, people who had been born in the small town or died, all recorded in the old book. 

A paragraph caught his attention. 

_ The Kim family line, the founders of Gyeon, tragically perished after a series of events caused by their own greed and resulting punishment. While the town watched in quiet horror, the members died one after the other, until only the youngest son remained. Stubborn as he was, he didn’t heed the warning and stayed in the town, until the once grand manor burned to the ground, leaving nothing but charred debris. _

Taeil huffed and looked for the family tree of this Kim family. It sounded like old superstition, bad luck believed to be magic or something like that. He had heard enough of that from the old nursery stories his grandmother told him when he was young. While scary for a child, now it just sounded like a cliche, something you read for entertainment. Taeil remembered when he himself tried to write his first horror story. It had come closer to a comedy. Luckily his editor had been nice in her critique. 

Finally finding the page, Taeil looked for the end of the line, where this youngest son should be recorded. There. _Kim Dong Young_. The following pages described the family members demise. Taeil wrinkled his nose at the crude descriptions and placed the book down. He felt itchy after that. Like he had read something private. Feeling a shiver run down his spine, Taeil shook his head and placed the book on the shelf behind him, deciding to finish the movie and forget it all. He had read about worse fates in the news while living in Seoul, but somehow this seemed more intimate. For such a small town, to actually record everything in a book. Or books. Hopefully, he didn’t have the only and original copy of the town’s history.

He bit his lip. “Hopefully,” he said out loud as if that would magically reassure him. 

He hadn’t watched more than 10 minutes of the movie when a bang behind him made him jump, barely stopping him from diving down beside the couch. Turning around with wide eyes, Taeil looked for the source. There, on the floor, laid the old book, opened as if daring him to read the pages. 

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart, he slowly stood from the couch and approached the fallen book. As he picked it up, he clearly saw the family tree of the Kim line on the opened page, the names suddenly looking bolder than before. He closed the book with more force than necessary and pushed it into the bookcase, squeezed between two heavy books. He would return it first thing in the morning. 

Taeil had barely turned around to return to the couch when something hit him in the back. Giving a short yelp, more from surprise than actual pain, he spun back to the bookshelf. The book laid on the ground once again, opened to the same page. Taeil blinked down at it, frozen in a mixture of confusion and shock. 

A shaken laugh escaped him. “What the fuck.” He blinked. The book stayed open, almost mocking him from the floor. “What the fuck.” He grabbed the book, biting his lip as he turned it over in his hands. It had to be exhaustion. He probably just misplaced it and didn’t notice until it fell down. It made sense. Yet, Taeil didn’t want to place it back on the bookshelf. He put it back down on the floor, right beside the shelf and pushed it into the corner. Feeling a weird satisfaction, as if he had actually fixed a problem, Taeil shook his head and headed for the bathroom. Seemed like it was time to go to sleep. 

Taeil woke up with a start, heart pounding as he looked around in confusion. Grabbing his phone on the nightstand, he squinted at the light, trying to read the time. 3:04 AM. He sighed. He had already forgotten what woke him up. It didn’t matter anyway, it was way too early to be awake. Turning over to get comfortable, Taeil barely managed to close his eyes before a loud bang made him jump out of bed. 

A million thoughts raced through his head as he ran out of his room, instinctual fear for his life mixing with his wish to protect his belongings and new home. Did someone break in? Who would even do that out here? Could it be an animal outside? But it sounded like it came from inside. He hadn’t heard glass breaking. Maybe that was the first sound that woke him. Were they armed? Oh god, why didn’t he have a bat?

Reaching the kitchen with no sign of life, Taeil grabbed the dirty frying pan waiting beside the sink as a makeshift weapon, feeling silly yet oddly comforted at the same time with something heavy-hitting in his hand. 

He stood for a moment, debating whether he should actually search the last room in his house or just call for help. Knowing how far away the small town and his own house laid from bigger cities, Taeil suddenly felt utterly alone. Steeling his resolve, he tiptoed into the living room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No broken glass or open door to the garden. Peering out to the entrance hall, he noted the front door looked closed as well. Walking out and pressing the handle down to make sure, he felt it give an inch before the lock prevented it from going further. He sighed in relief. No break-in then. 

A laugh bubbled up in his throat, tired and slightly hysterical, nerves calming down as he walked back through his house. It had probably just been an animal outside, making enough noise to reach him through the walls. 

As he passed the bookshelf, something hit him from the side, right between two ribs. He groaned in pain, clutching his side as he fumbled around in the dark for whatever hit him. Feeling a book under his hand, he froze in fear. It couldn’t be. Oh please don’t let it be that book. Holding the book in a white-knuckled grip, he felt along the wall for the light switch. Momentarily blinded by the golden light, he blinked to clear the black spots dancing in front of the cover. 

He froze as the book finally came into focus. It was _the_ book. The book about the town. But how? He left it on the floor. It hit him! Flew right into his side. It didn’t make any sense. It had to be a dream, but dreams didn’t hurt.

A loud knock behind him made him shriek. Turning around and chucking the book blindly, Taeil opened his eyes as the book made impact with something. It laid on the floor. Not in front of the cabinets in the kitchen where he threw it, but in the middle of the door frame separating the two rooms. As if it had hit some invisible wall. 

Taeil took a step back. The book was open. He just knew, instinctively, that if he walked over and looked at the page, he would see that damned family tree. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He couldn’t stay. He had to get out. Whatever was happening, he wasn’t sticking around to figure out what. A disbelieving laugh, choking on frightened tears, Taeil whispered in the silent house, “Rule number one in horror,” and ran for the front door. 

Behind him, another loud noise, this time a crash of splintering wood, made his heart rate skyrocket, actual tears streaming down his face as he fumbled with the keys. Had he not been shaking from adrenaline and fear, he would have laughed at the cliche he probably looked like right now. But as another bang sounded behind him, the same cursed book flying into the wall beside his head, Taeil could only sob louder and jam the key into the lock. Hearing it click seemed like music. 

He threw the door open, hearing it collide with the wall. He didn’t even get a foot outside before something grabbed his shirt and pulled him back in. Landing on the floor, Taeil felt the air leave his lungs in a wheeze, coughing as he tried to get up and _away- please god let me get away-_

Rolling onto his stomach, he kicked off the floor, hearing the door close behind him as he ran blindly. He knew the only other door he could use was the terrace door in the living room. Animalistic desperation fueled him. _He had to get out_. The couch moved on its own, cutting off his path and making him fall face first over the backrest. With the speed he ran at, he felt his spine protest as he tumbled down onto the floor, lying between the couch and small table. He stared in a daze at the ceiling, feeling his world slowly settle back down from his stunt. His head throbbed, spine ached, his left hand hurt after landing awkwardly on it in desperation to control his fall. 

A book came flying over the couch, landing on his chest. He recognised the coloured cover before he even finished taking a breath. Shaking hands grasped the frayed sides. It looked beaten up. An invisible force pulled the book out of his hand. Taeil followed, sitting up in morbid curiosity and seeing it land on the floor, opened once again on the page. He felt a shiver run down his spine. 

“What do you want?” He choked on the words, voice cracking in fear. The book stayed on the floor, as if daring him to do something. He took a shaky breath. The quiet seemed to ring in his ears. “Fuck.” He stood up on shaky legs. Nothing came flying at him. “Fuck.” More strength came back into his voice. He took a step forward. The book stayed on the floor. “What the fuck.” More of a mutter. He took a deep breath. His hands shook. His heart hammered. 

Another step. 

Silence. 

Another step. 

He reached the book. The pages seemed to move on their own. Stop. The paragraph he had read earlier stared back at him. He picked it up, blinking away the burning sensation in his eyes. 

“-until only the youngest son remained,” he recited, seeing a name written with thick strokes on the bottom of the page, something that hadn’t been there when he read the book earlier. He touched the symbols. The ink stained his fingers. He exhaled a shaky breath. Looking around himself, feeling both silly and apprehensive, he read it again, aloud. “Until only the youngest son remained. Kim Dong Young.”

For a moment nothing happened. Then a voice sounded right behind him. “Took you long enough.”

Taeil froze, felt a scream stick in his throat, almost choking him as he spun around. A young man stood before him. He seemed to fade in and out of focus, wherever Taeil looked, a sort of transparency making his whole form shimmer. Black hair barely brushed his eyelashes, milky white eyes staring right at Taeil. Black lines ran from his eyes like lightning, looking like cracks in porcelain. 

It - he? - _It_ tilted its head, regarding Taeil with a strange look, blank eyes too expressive. It took a step forward. Taeil mirrored it and took a step back. It frowned, looking at the book Taeil still clutched with a deathly grip as if it would keep his sanity intact. He- _It_ reached out its hand, palm up. 

Taeil giggled hysterically, face scrunched up in confusion. He held the book out with shaking hands. Did it just want the book? But then, why would it throw the book at him? It tilted its head, black lines growing longer on its face. In a flash, it disappeared. Taeil stared at the spot, expecting it to show up at any moment. 

Just as he felt his shoulders slump, something landed on his shoulder. He felt the physical pull turn him around, blank eyes inches from his own. The book fell from his hands, all strength leaving him as he stared into the emptiness before him. Its mouth moved, a soundless whisper, but air moved across his face nonetheless. 

Taeil squeezed his eyes shut, tearing up at the fact those cold eyes would be the last thing he ever saw. 

“-me.” It was a sound, so small, yet Taeil heard it. He looked up, noticing the thing was taller than him. 

“What?”

It seemed almost- Frustrated? 

“-me.”

Black tar seemed to leak from its eyes. It gave a full-body shudder like it was physically in pain. 

Feeling a sudden thought hit him, Taeil swallowed and wet his lips. “Dongyoung?”

For a moment, colour seemed to return to its eyes, nothing but pitch blackness, yet the piercing gaze made him snap his jaw shut, teeth clicking together. It almost smiled. 

“Stay. With. Me.”

Taeil passed out. 


End file.
